


and i don't feel any different

by spinnerofyarns



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve, Shitty childhoods, alcohol consumption, bonding over shitty childhoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9343394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinnerofyarns/pseuds/spinnerofyarns
Summary: so everybody put your best suit or dress onlet's make believe that we are wealthy for just this oncesetting firecrackers off on the front lawnas thirty dialogues bleed into one-----Jared and Gilfoyle spend New Year's Eve together. Title and lyrics in summary from "The New Year" by Death Cab For Cutie





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you're reading this and/or if you've ever enjoyed anything I've written, I hope you'll consider participating in the SV fan fundraiser for CAIR and the ACLU. You can donate anytime between now and March 15, and any little bit helps! Go here for more info: https://svagainsttyranny.tumblr.com/

            Jared shivered and curled up tighter on his cot, wrapping the thin blanket around himself. It wasn’t the first New Year’s Eve he was spending alone, but it was the first year since college that he was spending it in such dismal circumstances.

            He supposed he shouldn’t be complaining, Erlich had been kind enough to let him stay in the garage after all, but…it would have been nice to have someone to spend the holiday with, at least. Everyone but him had found parties to go to – Erlich and Dinesh were accompanying Bighead to Hooli’s party, Richard and Monica were at Laurie’s strange shiny house with everyone else from Raviga, and Gilfoyle…well, Gilfoyle had probably found some kind of Satanist event to attend.

            There was a knock at the door, and, surprisingly, Gilfoyle’s deep voice. “Jared? Are you decent in there? I’m coming in, I need to check on Anton.”

            Jared scrambled upright and reached for his khakis on the floor. “Ah…one second, Gilfoyle.” He pulled the pants on and reached for his shirt. “Okay, you can come in,” he said, buttoning the shirt hastily.

            Gilfoyle pushed the door open and immediately went to the bank of servers, looking at the flashing lights. “Okay,” he said. “It should hold up, tonight should be quiet enough, we haven’t got a huge userbase in Russia or China yet.” He turned to go, but then looked back at Jared. “Hey, have you got any plans for tonight?”

            Jared fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I was going to just…have a quiet night in. Read a book, drink some tea, go to bed, wake up in a whole new year. What about you?”

            Gilfoyle’s lip curled. “I was going to drink and smoke myself into oblivion, pass out, and wake up in a new year. I fucking _hate_ New Year’s Eve, it’s the worst holiday.”

            Jared wasn’t particularly fond of New Year’s Eve for his own reasons, but he didn’t think he should let Gilfoyle wreak havoc on his body like that. “Well, um,” he said nervously, “if you don’t have anything major planned…would you maybe like to spend the evening together? I’m not overly fond of New Year’s Eve either,” he hastened to add. “We could…watch a movie, or something?”

            Gilfoyle scrutinized him. “Why?”

            “Because…well, it would be nice not to greet the new year alone,” Jared said weakly. “For both of us. You know, there’s a superstition that how you start the new year affects the way you’ll spend it.”

            “Yeah, that’s why I was planning to spend it drunk and high.” Gilfoyle said. “But fine, you look so pathetic that I’d actually feel bad about leaving you alone. You manipulative little shit.”

            Jared smiled. “Okay, what do you want to do?”

            “Well, I happen to know for a fact that Erlich’s hidden some fancy hot chocolate in the pantry,” Gilfoyle said. “We could brew up some of that and, I don’t know, watch something. I think Dinesh left his Netflix account logged in, we could watch something awful and ruin his recommendations forever.”

            Jared frowned. “Why would we do that? I don’t want to antagonize Dinesh.”

            Gilfoyle rolled his eyes. “Fine, we can watch something actually good. You decide, I don’t really care. But NO ROMCOMS!” he added quickly, seeing Jared’s face light up. “I am _not_ starting the new year with a shitty romance movie.”

            Jared smiled. “All right. I think I know what we can watch.”

\----

            “The Imitation Game?” Gilfoyle wrinkled his nose. “ _Really?_ ”

            “You’ll like it,” Jared assured him. “I mean, it’s really the story of the first computer, and the first programmers, if you think about it.”

            “Fine, whatever, at least it hasn’t got Julia fucking Roberts,” Gilfoyle said, sitting on the couch and placing a mug of hot chocolate in front of Jared. “Start it up.”

            Jared pressed Play and picked up his hot chocolate tentatively. “Is this –“

            “It’s almond milk,” Gilfoyle said. “I know you’re allergic.”

            Jared blushed as he took a sip. “Thank you,” he said. It was rare that someone actually remembered his allergies.

            “No problem,” Gilfoyle muttered, reaching for something under the couch. He emerged holding a bottle of Fireball. “You want some?” he asked Jared.

            “Oh, I don’t…actually, what the heck, it’s New Year’s Eve,” Jared said, extending his mug. “Pour me some.”

            Gilfoyle smiled and poured at least two shots of the alcohol into Jared’s hot chocolate. “I knew you had it in you,” he said.

            Jared smiled again and took a sip of his hot chocolate, now warm and cinnamony from the Fireball. “What do you mean?”

            “Oh, you know,” Gilfoyle said, pouring himself a generous helping. “Ever since Russ said that thing about you, I knew there was…someone interesting under all that professional.”

            Jared chuckled, already warm from the alcohol. Really, his tolerance was pathetic. “What do you mean, interesting? I’d like to think I’m plenty interesting even without alcohol.”

            Gilfoyle smirked. “I mean, someone who wouldn’t have let Gavin Belson walk all over him. Why did you do it, anyway? From what I’ve seen you’re…remarkably competent. You could’ve found a better job if he’d kicked you out. Why did you just let him screw you over?” He took a massive sip of hot chocolate to cover his face. Maybe he’d be able to blame it on the alcohol later.

            Jared sighed, looked at the screen, and tapped his nails against his mug before answering. “Because sometimes it’s easier. If I let him do what he wanted, I could be sure he wouldn’t hurt me. It’s…something I learned the hard way, growing up. Sometimes it’s just safer to let people walk all over you, because the alternative is worse.” He took another sip of hot chocolate, feeling warmth course through his veins.

            Gilfoyle sighed. “I know what you mean,” he said, looking pointedly ahead of himself, avoiding Jared’s eyes. “I guess we just went in opposite directions after internalizing that shit.”

            Jared nodded. “You made yourself too sharp to hurt and I made myself soft. They’re both valid responses, Gilfoyle. Neither of us is doing it wrong. I don’t there’s even a way to do this wrong, or right for that matter.”

            Gilfoyle nodded, still not looking at Jared.

\----

            They sat through the rest of the movie in silence, looking at the screen and avoiding each other’s eyes. When the credits rolled, Gilfoyle stood up and stretched, then looked at the clock on the wall.

            “It’s 11:45,” he said. “Do you want to…I don’t know, watch the ball drop or whatever it is people do?”

            Jared nodded, flicking aimlessly through the channels to find a broadcast from Times Square. “Oh, Anderson Cooper,” he said finally. “He’s always fun.”

            Gilfoyle snorted. “You _would_ say that.” He sat down heavily on the couch.

            “I feel like we should have champagne,” Jared said. “Don’t people always have champagne on New Year’s Eve?”

            “Champagne is disgusting,” Gilfoyle said. “A crime against alcohol, quite honestly. I can always pour you more Fireball, if you’d like.”

            Jared agreed and held out his mug a little more boldly now, and Gilfoyle splashed a generous helping of sweet spicy alcohol into it, and even more into his own.

            Together, they watched the banter and the countdown. At the stroke of midnight, Jared tapped his mug against Gilfoyle’s.

            “Happy New Year, Gilf.”

            “Happy New Year,” Gilfoyle answered, then very suddenly turned and pressed his lips against Jared’s.

            It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant kiss – Gilfoyle’s face was scratchy and stubbly but warm, and he tasted like chocolate and cinnamon. Jared found himself enjoying the kiss, probably far more than he ought to.

            They broke apart and Jared pressed his fingers to his mouth.

            “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was – that is to say, I – this is – “

            “Are you going to calm down and kiss me,” Gilfoyle asked, “or do I have to kiss you again.”

            “This isn’t – I’m technically your superior, we shouldn’t – “

            “Jared,” Gilfoyle said, and Jared immediately stopped babbling and focused on him. “Jared. It’s New Year’s Eve. Let’s make sure both of us have a good year, huh?”


End file.
